


golden

by rosegoldwritings



Category: iKON (Kpop)
Genre: Blood, M/M, Mafia AU, Minor Character Death, Murder, Violence, ya its a fun one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:39:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegoldwritings/pseuds/rosegoldwritings
Summary: hanbin is more than bobby bargained for, but he thinks he can still make this work.(bobby is much more than hanbin bargained for—he's not sure he wants to make this work.)





	golden

**Author's Note:**

> ive been gone such a long time! can yall believe i got this idea from an anime

Hanbin’s distaste for the boy is evident since day one.

“That’s _disgusting,”_ he practically shouts, looking absolutely _mortified_ at the blood stains on the old brick wall.

Bobby lowers his gun and narrows his eyes at him. “Well, what else do you want me to do?” He throws his hands up in the air. “Sure, you can go free! No big deal! You’re only associated with a fucking murderer!”

Hanbin shakes his head, faking disbelief, but Bobby can tell he’s more shaken than anything. “Well, he won’t be telling you anything now.”

“He has plenty of associates. Someone clean this up!” He yells louder, turning behind him to get the attention of anyone that happens to be nearby.

“Until you blow all their heads of too,” Hanbin mutters under his breath, arms crossed. Bobby raises one eyebrow.

_“Excuse_ me?”

Truly, he doesn’t expect anything else. The boy is wearing a Burberry coat with his hair gelled back and some powder that makes his cheekbones shimmer even in the dull gray of the building. He’s lucky he even made it this far. But if he doesn’t learn when to shut his mouth, he won’t make it much farther.

Hanbin opens his mouth to defend himself but Bobby cuts him off. “Listen to me. If you don’t start doing what I say and only when I say it, I can’t promise this is going to go very smooth for you. I’m only putting up with you because I have to right now. You better believe that as soon as I get the chance, you’re gone.”

Hanbin’s eyes don’t move from where they’re locked on Bobby’s, mouth pressed into a straight line. “And you think I’m putting up with _you_ for any other reason?”

Bobby actually cracks a grin, luckily hidden in the shadows casted over his face. The boy has nerve, he’ll give him that. He can work with just one redeemable quality.

“Let’s get going,” he says, pointing his gun in the direction of the door. Neither boy moves as the other men start filing out past them.

 

*

 

“Hanbin. I need you to tell me something.”

Hanbin cuts him a look from under his lids, wondering when the hell he gave Bobby permission to address him so casually, but doesn’t say anything. “Yeah?” he snaps.

Bobby grins and strides over, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I just want you to tell me what other hotels he usually stayed at. When he wasn’t at his complex.” He pauses and scans the room again, just in case he catches something the others don’t. From where they stand, he has a full view of the opulent room and its glasstop tables and all the rich guests in their cocktail dresses, and the others standing across the room doing the same.

“He didn’t really frequent many other places.” Hanbin furrows his brows, uncomfortable and irritated with Bobby’s mannerisms. “I know he went to the one downtown a few times.”

“Which one?”

“The chain owned by the Lee’s. How am I supposed to know?”

Bobby ignores his last comment and presses against a small earpiece in his ear. “The chain owned by the Lee’s. Can one of you get a name on that?”

It’s less than a minute before Bobby turns back to Hanbin and says, “Rosemont. Sound familiar?”

“Yes, that’s it.” He scowls and tries to shrug Bobby’s arm off him. “Can you get _off_ me now?” 

Bobby wraps his arm tighter, presses the earpiece again and says, “I need four people there right now. Have the description of him. And…” He eyes the people standing a few meters away from him and lowers his voice. “Don’t bother with any fake identification. Just bring a few guns each and they’ll give you access to the whole building.”

To the unsuspecting eye, the men in black suits rushing out of the dining hall means nothing, just more guests returning to their rooms. Hanbin knows better. He knows where they’re really headed, and what this could mean for himself and the others, though their goals are nowhere near the same.

Bobby gives Hanbin’s shoulders a squeeze. “We’re gonna stay here. Keep watch right where we are, just me and you.”

Hanbin has to keep himself from rolling his eyes. He’s half sure Bobby doesn’t care about where else they might find Jooyoung, that he only send the others away to spite Hanbin.

“Okay,” he grinds out.

 

*

 

Hanbin is learning more about the inner workings of this crime organization every day.

Bobby is currently overseeing the arrival of crates and crates of cocaine—he’d learned that they controlled the drug trade in all of Seoul, and although it seemed like good money, Bobby had been none too enthusiastic about this job.

“Hey, hey, watch it!” He shouts at one of the men, whose neck snaps up with fear in his eyes. “Drop that and you’ll be paying the thousand back!”

Hanbin doesn’t fear him in any practical sense. There’s something about the boy that Hanbin’s apprehensive of, but Bobby didn’t hire him, and Bobby can’t touch him, lest there be consequences from the higher ups. Hanbin doesn’t exactly _know_ where Bobby falls in this sinister hierarchy; just that he’s powerful enough to boss most people around, but still has superiors of his own. And that’s fine with Hanbin. It doesn’t concern him.

“What do you think, Hanbin?” Bobby asks, watching the men scurry around the warehouse, then turns to face him. “You’ve probably seen this times ten at your pretty boy fashion shows, right? I bet everyone was snorting before they went out. High off their asses on the runway.”

He doesn’t smile. Bobby has this glint in his eyes like he’s looking for something, always has that glint in his eyes, and whatever it is, Hanbin has no intention of giving it to him.

“Not as high as you all are all the time,” he says flatly. “It’s a wonder anything ever gets done around here.”

Bobby actually laughs. Hanbin has to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about that. The drug business is dangerous. I’ll take care of everything.”

He locks his jaw, presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth and stares at Bobby. He can’t decide if he sounds more teasing or condescending, but he doesn’t like it.

“Go ahead and take care of everything,” Hanbin spits. “I’ll bet you’re real great at it. Let’s hope we aren’t finding _you_ dead in three months.”

Bobby frowns and draws his gun from the holster around his waist. “Do you know how to use this, Hanbin?”

Hanbin narrows his eyes, because no, he doesn’t. That’s not what he’s here for.

“Do you know how many people I’ve had to use this on? Just from this alone?” He motions outwards, to the crates of drugs in front of them. Admittedly, Bobby was right. He _does_ know a thing or two about this. There were people in his former circle in the city that had been quite experienced with this sort of thing, but he’d never known it like this.

“It’s not safe,” he continues, expression dark and weary, then in the next instant, his whole face shifts. There’s the smug, self-satisfied boy he can’t stand. “All someone would have to do is _this_ —“ Bobby grabs Hanbin’s waist before he can react, then his back is pressed to Bobby’s chest with the barrel of the gun to his chin—“and you’d be done for.”

“What the hell!” Hanbins yells, trying to elbow his way out of Bobby’s grasp, but it’s no use. Bobby’s got twice the muscle he does and a few inches on him too. “Let me go!”

“You need to be careful. I’m trying to keep you safe, but you make it hard.”

“Stop!”

“You know, maybe if you watched your mouth people wouldn’t feel the need to do that.”

Hanbin is going to open his mouth again to scream more profanities in Bobby’s face, but Bobby releases him just then and sends him stumbling a few steps. He quickly turns around. “What the hell was that for!”

“I think you should learn some self defense. We’ll work on it later.” Bobby barks more directions at the men handling his drugs, but Hanbin, still infuriated, isn’t done.

“What do you mean? You just—!”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do, Hanbin, and it’s for your own good. And if you were smart you would listen to me.”

Bobby doesn’t move and neither does Hanbin, refusing to back down from the challenge clearly present in his eyes. Whatever game Bobby is playing, he can play it too.

 

*

 

The frigid air of Seoul bites their cheeks and hands as they walk down the street in the dead of night, not speaking a word to each other. Bobby keeps stealing glances over, observing Hanbin look at the ground while he walks, smiling to himself because he knows that’s his own doing. The boy has serious bite, and Bobby’s learning just how to draw it out.

“You can stop staring,” Hanbin snaps, finally looking up at Bobby. His eyes are dark and angry, but Bobby gives a lax smile back and raises his eyebrows comically.

“Staring? You’re not that good looking, Hanbin.”

He can see Hanbin fuming and balling his hands into fists in his pockets, but Hanbin doesn’t acknowledge that with a comeback. They walk in silence for another minute before Bobby decides to antagonize him again, just for the hell of it. “So when we get there, you know what to do, right?”

“Yeah.” Hanbin is gritting the words through his teeth, holding what he really wants to say back. “Stand in the back. Listen. Shut up. You’ve said it all before.”

“Wow, you’re really a great listener, Hanbin,” Bobby praises in a too-admiring voice. “I’m glad you can take direction so well.”

Again, Hanbin doesn’t say anything back, not even when they arrive at the grand highrise in the heart of Seoul, the one Hanbin’s been to a handful of times and still getting used to. They bypass the woman at the front desk, who takes one look at Bobby and immediately looks back down. Bobby leads him to the elevator, presses a button marked in red with a large, threatening ‘X’ next to it, one that Hanbin once found nausea-inducing but now knows better. The automatic fear no longer fills his body as he watches the elevator go up, up, up, looking through the glass walls as Seoul disappears below them. And when it dings and the doors open, a few faces he’s come to recognize are waiting for them. 

There’s the tall, lean blonde, the slightly shorter brown-haired boy, and one with stark silver waves, who reminded Hanbin more of himself, in the sense that he looked out of place here. A few others sat throughout the room, but no one Hanbin could remember. 

“You’re late,” the blonde says, but Bobby chooses to ignore his comment and takes a seat on the couch across from him.

“Don’t really have much for you today,” Bobby says by way of answer. “Anything turn up in the guest logs at the Rosemont?”

“Nothing,” the brown-haired boy says. “Unless he was using a fake name, in which case we have no way of knowing.”

“Damn,” Bobby breathes out, grinding his jaw. He pauses a moment to think, then turns to Hanbin. “Any aliases he was known to use?”

“None that I know of,” Hanbin replies.

Bobby nods slowly, processing the information. “Alright, well, I really didn’t want it to come to this,” he starts, hand already on the gun in its holster.

“Yeah, you did,” the blonde says under his breath, but Bobby just stands up, and whether he didn’t hear or is ignoring him again, Hanbin doesn’t know.

“The boss said he needs to be dead in three months. I…” Bobby’s eyes flash. “I want him dead sooner. He’s going to pay for this.”

 

*

 

Only a few months ago, Hanbin had been on the cover of Vogue and GQ, famous to the public and recognized on every street corner. He’d been drowning in cash and every single thing he could possibly want to buy, from a new Rolls Royce to another penthouse in different district, just because he could. A few months ago, international star Kim Hanbin had fallen off the face of the earth when a dodgy looking man in a suit approached him with a new deal.

He’d said yes for multiple reasons, even if trading in personal stylists and designer clothes for guns and bloodstains didn’t sound like the most appealing thing in the world, but he’d quickly learned there was more to it. The day a limo picked him up off the street and brought him to a sleek skyrise, he knew there was no turning back.

Only two men met Hanbin in the room on the highest floor, security on the outside, guarding the room made entirely of glass that made Hanbin’s head spin. They’d said they needed his help, that he knew something they didn’t. Of course he’d agreed. When crime lords ask for your help, you don’t say no. There’d been promises of more money than he could have ever dreamed of as a high end model, and in the end, it really hadn’t sounded bad. 

That was, until they stuck him with Bobby as his personal guide.

And that led him to where they stood now, Bobby holding a gun in a man’s face, a show coordinator that Hanbin had tipped them off as to his location. If anyone knows where Jooyoung went, he’d told them, it’s him.

“I don’t have time for this,” Bobby says evenly, kicking the chair he’s currently bound up in. As if the gun didn’t do it itself. “I know you saw him two days ago and I know you know where he is right now. If you want to live long enough to get out of here I suggest you tell me right about”—he glances at the golden watch on his wrist—“now.”

“I told you,” the man replies, voice hoarse, courtesy of Bobby pinning him against the wall by the throat, “he didn’t tell me where he was going next. He only—“

Hanbin squeezes his eyes shut as a gunshot echoes throughout the room. Without looking behind him, Bobby puts the gun back in his holster and says, “Hanbin, call the next person in your contacts.”

He nods, trying to get the sound of someone’s last dying sounds out of his head, (and knowing he never will, because it’s still stuck there from the last four times) and pulls out his phone.

“Hello, yes? Hi , it’s Hanbin. I was wondering if you wanted to meet up tomorrow…”

 

*

 

“Do you trust this Minsung?” Bobby questions back, raising one eyebrow.

Hanbin hesitates. “As much as I can, I guess.”

He immediately goes back to just a year ago, when he had considered Minsung a friend, how he’d been one of the few people Hanbin thought he could trust. Then to just a few months ago, when he had left it all behind for this. There was no way Minsung knew where he’d gone.

Bobby nods slowly, thoughtfully. “That’s all there really is around here.” A moment of silence passes between them, not an uncomfortable one, Hanbin would say, which is more than he usually can. Bobby actually looks peaceful sitting against the wall in silence, staring at the concrete floor with his gun in his lap. Almost… vulnerable. Hanbin almost makes a comment, something like, _I like you much better when you’re not running your mouth,_ but decides against it. He finds himself enjoying the moment more than the satisfaction he would get for getting a rise out of Bobby.

It doesn’t last long. There’s a light tap on single cracked window a few feet from them. Bobby immediately jumps up and has his gun in his hand, walking along the wall until he’s close enough to peer outside and decide that yes, that’s definitely Minsung.

“Looks like he’s alone,” Bobby announces, backing up slightly. “Go open the door.”

The moment Hanbin opens it, Bobby is right there behind him. The next moment, he has Minsung in a chokehold with the gun pressed to his neck. 

“We have a few questions to ask you,” Bobby says evenly, but Hanbin has picked up on the threat behind the words, too. “Just cooperate and everything will go fine.”

Hanbin thinks that after all this time he should have gotten over to the moral conflict of the whole thing, but when he sees the fear shining in Minsung’s eyes, it hits him all over again.  
Fear, then when he registers who it is, hurt. Betrayal.

Hanbin’s chest pangs with guilt. He wants to reach out to him. Say something. But it feels like decades since they had seen each other last, outside of this context, and it just doesn’t feel right to speak at all.

He doesn’t have it in him to listen to Bobby threaten Minsung for the next twenty minutes. It shouldn’t take longer than that. He’s always been a very sensitive person, Hanbin remembers. Maybe all the people they do this to are.

It feels like hours. He tries to block out Bobby’s words, instead just listening to the drone of his voice, not really hearing anything at all.

When the butt of his gun cracks against something hard, Hanbin almost throws up.

 

*

 

Hanbin has gotten used to these sorts of briefings. Whether it’s on the phone, some mysterious contact on the other line, or meetings in person, Hanbin is tagging along as their informant, and though he doesn’t feel like much help these days, they’re always regular.

Even as their informant, Hanbin is always more or less brushed off to the side, while the experienced men in suits with guns do the talking. He always recognizes the blonde, who he’s come to find out is named Junhwe, and another brown-haired boy who goes by the name of Donghyuk, along with other faces he can’t put names to yet. It’s a scary thought to know that they all know who he is.

This time, though, Bobby brings the attention right to him.

“Kim brought a few people to me,” he says, turning to Hanbin. “Jung Minsung and… what was the other boy’s name?”

“K-Kim Heejung,” Hanbin stutters, swallowing thickly as all the eyes in the room focus in on him. It’s been like this for a while now, but he hasn’t adjusted to it.

“And did either of this boys sustain any… _permanent injuries_ while they were with you?” The blonde asks, half exasperated, half irritated, like he already knows the answer.

Bobby waves the question off. “I do what I have to do. Trails were covered up, so go report that one to the boss, alright?”

Junhwe closes his eyes for a moment like he has to force himself from saying anything more, then exhales. “Alright. And what did they tell you?”

“Heejung didn’t give us anything important. Minsung… did though.”

Junhwe raises an eyebrow, a signal for him to continue.

“He said that Jooyoung hasn’t left the city, so I’m putting round-the-clock watch on all routes out. At least we know we’re not wasting our time. Other than that, he hasn’t heard from him. No one from their circles has.”

“How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“Hanbin here says he trusts him.” Bobby smiles proudly. Hanbin scrambles to open his mouth and say something before this falls back on him hard, but he doesn’t know what. 

“You do?” Junhwe beats him to it.

“I…uh, yeah. I don’t think he would have any reason to lie.”

The memories start flooding over him again. At the time, it hadn’t felt real. Now, discussing it like they would the weather, it does. He _didn’t_ have any reason to lie, because he’d trusted Hanbin, and Hanbin had manipulated that for his own good.

“But this is exactly what we need,” Bobby continues. “He’s here. We’re close.”

Hanbin draws in a deep breath and tries to still the unsettling coursing through his body, anger and sadness and fear all at once. He stops listening to the discussion in front of him. This part really doesn’t concern him, anyway.

They go on and on for what feels like forever as Hanbin curls further and further into himself, trying to repress the memories of it. He shuts his eyes and focuses on breathing in, out, in out, until he can’t register anything but the feeling of his own inhales and exhales. The voices in the room stop suddenly and he takes one last deep breath before resurfacing, opening his eyes again and seeing that some of the men had left the room. Bobby is still there next to him, eyes trained right on him.

“Feeling okay?”

Hanbin nods. “Headache,” he says simply.

Bobby nods, but not in any way that makes Hanbin think he’s convinced. He can’t read Bobby at all, and he doesn’t like it.

“Alright.” He presses his lips together and glances down at the floor in thought, then looks back up and steps closer to Hanbin. “You can’t blame yourself for this. It happens regardless.”

Hanbin stares back, mouth slightly ajar, but before he can do anything Bobby moves away again and exits the room.

_You can’t blame yourself for this._

He thinks back to the constant challenge present in Bobby’s eyes, the way he treats this like a round of chess Hanbin has been trying to navigate without taking too many losses, and wonders where that is now.

**Author's Note:**

> uhh yea so constructive criticism welcome (and actually encouraged!) that's why ive been gone my writing has felt so...lackluster lately so. if u got anything to say smash that mf comment button
> 
> as always thank u guys so much for reading!!! again i apologize i dont have a beta reader so i do my best to fix all mistakes on my own
> 
> n tumblr is @rosegoldwritings


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